


Truths Like Verdant Earth

by nhixxie



Series: Truths [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, im a trope loving piece of shit and im proud of myself, this is completely self-indulgent and i will not apologize for it, u know what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-08 02:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21468445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhixxie/pseuds/nhixxie
Summary: But Alec is Alec. Secret Service agent sworn to protect Magnus, the president's son, Alec. Always standing by, but never beside, Alec. Could only afford to linger the press of his palm against Magnus’ shoulder a split-second longer, Alec.OR, the president's son/bodyguard AU that I've always wanted to write but is always too lazy to.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Truths [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565524
Comments: 43
Kudos: 257
Collections: Shadowhunters: The Ficlet Instruments





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [sh_ficletinstruments](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/sh_ficletinstruments) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Oh boy. When someone gets drunk, a lot of truths come out.

Magnus looks at the man before him.

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood, you’re drunk.”

Alec frowns, squints up at him, eyes bleary and struggling to focus. He sways slightly in his seat, a human leaning tower of Pisa. “No.”

Magnus stifles a laugh, as he settles on the chair beside him. “No, what, darling?”

Alec blinks, confused. “I.. don’t know.”

Magnus looks at the time on his phone: quarter to eight. In fifteen minutes, he’s expected to be at his father’s side at the grand foyer to welcome the German president Frank-Walter Steinmeier and all of his high-ranking staff. 

But then _Magnus, c’mere_, he hears Alec from the other line and immediately, Magnus deviates his path. It doesn’t matter whether it’s the rare _Magnus_ or the more common _Mr. Bane_. He revels in the sound of Alec’s voice, wants to hear it from across the room, thunder in the air, or flush against his ear, a breathless whisper.

_ __ _

_ __ _

But Alec is Alec. Secret Service agent sworn to protect him, Alec. Always standing by, but never beside, Alec. Could only afford to linger the press of his palm against Magnus’ shoulder a split-second longer, Alec. 

But today in his living quarters, on his day off, he’s shed his suit jacket off his shoulders, his holsters packed away. He looks so much more like the Alec who searched Magnus out on his own and dragged him out of a dark seedy club that one distant night, because _this isn’t who you are and I don’t want anybody passing judgement on you when they don’t know you like I do._

The same Alec looks at him, still drunk out of his wits but somehow serious now, like he’s got something he needs to say. “I wish you knew,” he mumbles, “what _darling_ does to me.”

Magnus' brow raises slightly, smiling softly. “I’m here. You can let me know.”

“Makes me want,” Alec mumbles, leaning closer, “Something I know I can never have.” 

Magnus feels his heart punch out of his chest, a throttle that threatens to upend him completely. He works away at their distance, shrinking it even more by leaning forward himself. “Tell me.”

“What’s the point,” Alec mutters, “If I can’t have it?”

Magnus breathes sharply. “Alexander, what do you want?”

Alec looks at him, closer, closer, lips fallen open like something is forthcoming—a heaviness falls on Magnus’ shoulder. He breathes, and Alec moves along with him like dead weight, forehead nuzzled into his neck. He produces a little snore.

Magnus breaks into a chuckle, shaking his head. When he finally brings Alec over onto his bed and pulls his blanket over him, he hovers for a split-second. Gently, he moves the hair from Alec’s forehead and steals a soft kiss.

The next day, Isabelle looks at Magnus, confused. “Alec? Drunk?”

Magnus shrugs. “Completely.”

“Alec’s allergic to alcohol.” Izzy says flatly, “Like, anaphylactic allergic.”

Magnus stops, fingers on his lips.

That night, Alec’s phone rings. “Mr. Bane, everything okay?”

_Alexander, come here._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! As you can see, this ficlet has a different title now, and this is because I've elected to post the longer one-shot version of this ficlet under the same name. I thought I would be able to just continue on from this ficlet, but the plot kind of swerved a little off track and became something different. It's still the same AU, still the same plot, so if you want to read it, it will be right [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723220). Or, I've placed this ficlet and the one-shot under a series, so you can also just click on the next button at the end of this teaser chapter. Underneath is the start of the one-shot, so you there won't be any spoilers. 
> 
> Hope to see you there!

Anderson Cooper 360 blares over the flat screen before them, a map of the United States stretched across it with shades of red and blue swatched in non-distinct patterns. The electoral map is at a sixty-fifty, with some speckle of yellow over several states where no projections has yet to be made. Asmodeus Bane is slowly creeping forward, a five percent lead edging his tally over his counterpart.

“Looks like the Banes are moving into the White House.” Izzy murmurs, her agenda laid out on the coffee table before her alongside her open online calendar. Being a records management analyst ensures that her timetable is never empty, and the amount of scribbles on the pages is testament to that. It makes Alec’s brain spin just looking at it, and he isn’t new to thorough protocols.

“Seems like it.” Alec answers, back pressed against the couch.

“Did they brief you on where you’ll be?” Izzy asks, and Alec shakes his head.

“Not yet.” He answers, “Won’t be with the presidential detail, that’s for damn sure.” His military experience, engineering background, and time as a uniformed division officer may have helped Alec squeak through the highly competitive selection process, but it doesn’t erase the fact that he’s young blood. Young blood is young blood, and just like the military, you move up the ranks, no matter how skilled and proficient you are.

“So the first son then?”

Alec looks at Izzy, curious. “That’s it? That’s all the family there is?”

Izzy nods, gesturing to the television screen where the camera is panning over a symphonic celebration at the democratic headquarters. It shows Asmodeus Bane embracing a young man firmly among the tight throng of people rejoicing around them. Magnus Bane, it says on the news ticker at the bottom of the screen. When they part, the man looks at the camera graciously, a smile on his mouth.

Pity that smile doesn’t even reach his eyes, Alec thinks.

(Click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723220) for the rest)


End file.
